shrugged. ‘Whatever you prefer. But you really don’t have to work every minute you’re here, you know.’
Fiona closed her laptop and started to pack it away. ‘I think I do, Major,’ she said softly. She looked up and met his eye. ‘He’s out there, planning the next one. He’s already working on a short cycle. I hate to sound melodramatic, but when you’re dealing with a killer as organized and as ruthless as this one, every day counts. I don’t want his next victim’s blood on my hands if I can possibly avoid it.’
Berrocal eased the car into the traffic and gave Fiona a quick glance. ‘You really think the man behind the vandalism is the same man who did the muggings?’
Fiona shrugged. ‘There are no certainties in what I do. And ideally, I like to work with at least five locations for each potential series. But on the basis of probability, I’d say so. The vandalism only overlaps the first mugging. After the second mugging, there’s no more paint-throwing or window-breaking. So either the vandal moved away, or he found a more satisfying outlet for his anger. Everything I know about the way violent criminals escalate tells me that it’s likely that, when he wasn’t caught, he became more confident. He moved up a gear and started attacking the direct cause of his rage rather than hitting targets at one remove. If I’m right, it’ll show up when I run the geographic profiling program.’
‘You’ll have proof it’s the same offender?’ Berrocal couldn’t help sounding a little sceptical.
‘Not absolute proof, no. Not even the kind of proof that will stand up in court. But if the program gives me the same likely residential locations for both series of crimes, then we’re looking at a strong probability, wouldn’t you say? And then your colleagues in Toledo will have an idea where to start looking for proof.’ Fiona shifted in her seat, trying to unlock the tightness in her shoulders. They had turned on to the road that skirted the river opposite the bluff where Toledo glowed in the twilight. ‘Amazing view,’ she added.
‘It’s a beautiful city,’ Berrocal acknowledged. ‘That’s why crimes like these seem so much more shocking than a routine act of violence in the back streets of Madrid. And of course, it’s also why there is so much attention on this investigation. It’s not just my bosses who are leaning on us for a quick solution. The newspapers and the TV stations are all over us. Luckily I’ve managed to keep your name out of the stories so far. I don’t think it would go down well that we have had to bring in an expert from England to solve crimes so very Spanish.’
‘I won’t be solving your crimes, Major. I’m a consultant psychologist, not a consulting detective. All I can do is make suggestions. It’s up to you to decide whether they’re worth pursuing, and it’s up to you to find the evidence to nail your killer.’
Berrocal grinned. ‘Doctor, you know and I know that the media are not interested in the truth of the situation. If they find out about you, they will portray you as some sort of miraculous detective, a modern Sherlock Holmes who is called in because the police are too stupid to do their job.’
‘Which is why we don’t tell them I’m here,’ she said. For a minute or so there was silence, until Berrocal turned off the main road and headed up the steep hill towards the parador, leaving the dramatic vista behind them.
‘Will your geographic program tell us if the murderer lives in the same place as the mugger?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know if there’s enough data,’ she answered frankly. ‘On their own, the two murders won’t give us anything approaching pinpoint accuracy. Not enough locations, you see. But I’ll play around with various combinations and see what I come up with. I should be able to answer your question tomorrow morning.’
‘Are you positive you don’t want to go out to dinner?’ Berrocal asked as he pulled into the car park.
‘It’s very kind of you. But I’d rather get through the work. The sooner I get finished, the sooner I can go home. Besides, I’m sure your family would like to see something of you.’
He gave a soft snort of laughter. ‘I’m sure they would. But like you, I’ll be working this evening, I’m afraid.’
‘At least I’ll have Kit’s company for dinner. He has the knack of making me laugh, even in the middle of something as grim as this. And let’s face it, Major, there aren’t too many laughs in this line of work.’
He nodded gravely. ‘I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel I’m dragging the sewer in behind me when I walk in from work. I almost don’t want to pick up my children and hug them in case I infect them with what I’ve seen, what I know.’ He leaned across to open the door for Fiona. ‘Good hunting, Doctor.’
She nodded. ‘You too, Major.’
Fiona’s first reaction when she opened the door was bewilderment. The only light in the room came from the distant vista of Toledo, dramatically uplit by dozens of spotlights. Silhouetted against the light, Kit was sitting on the end of the bed, elbows on knees, head hanging. ‘Kit?’ she said softly, closing the door behind her. She didn’t know what could be wrong, only that something clearly was.
She crossed to him with swift strides, shedding briefcase, laptop and coat on the way. Kit raised his head and turned to face her as she sat down beside him. ‘What’s the matter, love?’ she asked, concern and anxiety in her voice. She put an arm round his shoulders and he leaned into her.
‘Drew Shand’s been murdered,’ he said unsteadily.
‘The guy who wrote Copycat?’
‘According to BBC World, they found his body early this morning just off the Royal Mile.’ Kit sounded dazed.
‘That’s how you found out? From the telly?’ she said, dismayed at the thought.
‘Yeah. I thought I’d catch the news headlines.’ He gave a bleak bark of laughter. ‘You don’t expect to hear one of your mates has been murdered and mutilated.’
‘That’s terrible,’ Fiona said, conscious of the inadequacy of her words. She understood only too well the shock and pain of such a discovery. Though in her case, it had been the telephone that had been the unwelcome messenger.
‘Yeah, and I’ll tell you what’s worse. Because he was out and proud and hung in the kind of bars where the patrons indulge in the sort of sexual practices that your average Edinburger finds repulsive, he’s already being trailed as the engineer of his own destruction. It’s blame-the-victim time. Nothing like that approach to make the respectable citizens sleep easy in their beds, knowing it couldn’t happen to them.’ He sounded angry, but Fiona recognized that as a defence against the hurt.
‘I’m so sorry, Kit,’ she said, holding him close and letting him nestle against her.
‘I’ve never known anybody who was murdered before. I know we’ve talked about Lesley, and I thought I understood how you felt about what happened to her, but now I realize I didn’t really have a clue. And it’s not even as if I knew Drew particularly well. But I just can’t get my head around the idea that anybody would kill him. I just can’t imagine why.’
Fiona had never met Drew Shand, but she knew too much of murder and its consequences not to feel the horror that lay behind the bare fact of his death. She knew only too well what murder meant to those left behind. It was the reason she had become the woman she was.
Kit
